


Until you forget

by Skrigget



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Amnesia, Amnesia Peter, Angst, Brothels, Hooker!Peter, Hurt, M/M, Sexual Content, au-ish, i guess?, not really - Freeform, so much PeterxHook, so much sex, sort of, takes place after 3x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skrigget/pseuds/Skrigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The curse backfires and Peter Pan forgets everything - about Neverland, Felix, the lost boys, Rumple, Hook. Everything. </p><p>A couple of months later Killian decides to accept Rumple's offer. He goes to one of the Darks One's brothels and finds something he didn't anticipate (or need)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until you forget

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place somewhere after an alternative 3x11 in which the curse backfires

Hook lingers outside the door, raises his hand but doesn’t knock. He can feel his throat tightening and his fingers getting sweaty. It’s ridicules, he tells himself. He’s done this before. And yet he can’t shake the sudden feeling that something is wrong this time. Maybe it’s because he can hear everything in this hallway, the walls so thin that they don’t leave anything to the imagination. Or it could be because he dreamt about Milah the night before for the first time in months – dreamt about her eyes, her lips, her hair, her voice.

But it’s probably because this brothel belongs to Rumplestilskin.

Hook lets the hand drop and takes a step back. He looks at the door for a second and then another and another – never moving. His eyes are dead and his body stiff and the moans from the other rooms fill the heavy air in the tight corridor. Then the captain bites his teeth together and takes a deep, burning breath before opening the door without knocking.

The room is not very big. It only has room for a bed, but what else does it need, really? The bed it big, though, and with clean white sheets. The light has been turned off in the room and the only thing that lightens the rather dark room is the moonlight shinning in through the open window. It makes it possible for Killian to see a figure lying on his back on the bed. The figure doesn’t move when Killian enters, and a bit startled the captain stands still, just staring at the person.

After several seconds he hears a voice: "For god’s sake, close the door!”

Killian stiffens for a moment. His blood is suddenly ice cold and yet his body is burning. The skin feels too tight, and he wants to rip it off immediately. He can’t breathe, he can’t even move. After a second or two the figure in the bed sits up and stares at the other man and Killian can’t see the face in the bad light but he knows – oh god how he knows – exactly what the person looks like.

"What’s wrong with you?” the boy asks and when Killian doesn’t answer – he physically can’t – the boy sighs and mumbles something under his breath before getting up. He’s entirely naked and the sight makes Killian shiver. The boy notices and a smirk plays in the corner of his big, red lips. A smirk the captain knows all too well.

The boy walks past him so close that his skin brushes Killian’s and that’s all it takes; the captain inhales sharply. The boy is looking at Killian, he can feel it, but the captain doesn’t dare look at him. When he can hear the door close behind him he feels trapped. Rationally he knows he can just turn around and open it, but it’s as if that isn’t an option. The boy walks slowly back to the bed. Killian looks at his bag and the memories comes rushing back. They make everything hurt; his lungs, his head, his heart, his throat. He wants to shut them off but he can’t and they make him dizzy.

"Are you okay over there?” the boy asks, amusement in his voice.

Killian manages to nod and even swallow hard a couple of times.

"Good,” the boy says slowly. Oh, that fucking voice! Killian remembers it all too clearly all off the sudden. If Peter could see him now – the _old_ Peter Pan, not this boy on the bed, with hallow eyes and bruises on his body – he’d snort irritated and tell Killian to man up, tell him to get back into the game, he’d tell him to win and to survive!

Killian bites his tongue so hard he can taste the sweet blood filling mouth but it’s good. It’s something else than the memories tormenting him.

"Look,” the boy says and Killian can hear that he’s both tired and irritated. "Are you going to get over here, or are you just going to stand there?”

Killian looks at the boy, catches his eyes, and even in the darkened room he can sense the green pulsing in them. He doesn’t answer so the boy continues instead:

"Because, honestly I don’t care,” he shrugs and yawns. "You’ve already paid for me, so… but if you are just going to stand there anywhere, do you mind if I put on some clothes and take a nap? Or would you prefer me like this - naked and vulnerable?”

Killian feels sick into the very core of his soul (if he still has one, that is). Now that he’s stated looking at the boy he can’t take he eyes off of him again. He fears if he does he’ll disappear, slip through the captains fingers like everyone else.

So he moves. He doesn’t know how or why but he does. The first step is uncertain, but he can hear Peter’s mocking voice in his head and it drives him forward. To the boy on the bed who looks so much like him, but is nothing like him at all.

The boy smirks and clicks his tongue. "Good,” the boy praises and Killian snorts. The sound makes the boy raise one eyebrow and god Killian can’t take it – it’s the same boy! Well, it isn’t, but _it is_.

He sits on the bed next to the boy, and the boy leans in, so slowly that it’s going to kill the captain. He feels familiar, slender fingers on his thigh and a hot breath tickling his neck. He smells different, though. Smells of sweat and lack of sleep, smells of men – and lots of them, smells of blood and cum.

"You can do with me,” the boy whispers, "whatever you want the next hour”

A hand slips inside the captain’s jacket and the movement makes him turn. A fatal mistake, really. Because the boy is siting so close it’s suffocating. His lips are millimeters away and they haven’t changed even if everything else has. He wonders if they still feel the same. He wonders if the boy will bite him if Killian leans in.

He won’t. Actually, the boy leans up instead, wraps a hand around the neck of the captain and locks their lips together in a tight, messy kiss. He even tastes the same. Killian opens his mouth slightly when he feels the boy’s tongue pressing against his lips. He has his eyes wide open, staring at the boy and he tries to comprehend what he bloody hell is going on, but he can’t.

What did they do to you? He thinks when the boy suddenly moves so he’s seated in the captain’s lap, his legs wrapped around the captain and fingers in his hair. On reflex Killian grabs the boy’s hips tight and the boy smirks again. This is all too familiar.

They ruined you, Killian thinks as he looks at the boy. Because the boy in his lap might look, taste and feel like Peter but it isn’t the same boy, not anymore. Killian knew that it had been Rumple’s job to “dispose” of Peter after the curse backfired and the eternal boy lost all of his memories. Everyone had thought it was only fair since the boy technically was Rumple’s father. And Killian had thought about interfering, but when Peter had looked at him the captain had known that he didn’t remember – didn’t remember a thing. So he’d let him go, watched him as he turned his back on his lost boys, on Tinker, on everyone and followed Rumple. No one had ever asked what Rumple did with him – not even Emma – but Killian had always assumed that he took him somewhere, some building, some castle, just anything. Anything but a brothel really. The thought had never acquired to him and now he feels stupid for not figuring it out, feels stupid for not doing something. He wonders if Emma knows – if everyone else has already figured out what he couldn’t.

The boy in his lap pushes him down on his back without ever taking his eyes off the captain. Then he starts to open Killian shirt, starts to open his jeans, pulls off his shoes and all the while Killian is just lying there because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

He tries to tell himself that it’s utterly stupid because Peter was nothing but a bloody demon to him. They were enemies, for god’s sake. But they didn’t used to be. There’d been a time when Killian had worked for the eternal boy. And even after, when their deal was over, the boy would still torment him. Would materialize on his ship, all smirks and lips the color of blood. And Killian knew somewhere deep down that he was becoming rather addicted to the boy, but he couldn’t quite find it in him to care. Peter was everything everyone else wasn’t, he was exactly what he needed after Milah. And Killian can’t do this right now. He’d accepted that he was never going to see Peter again. He was slowly getting over his addiction and now he is being thrown right back into it.

The boy rips Killian’s shirt open so the buttons flies all over the room, but he doesn’t seem to notice or he just doesn’t care. He locks eyes with Killian again as he starts kissing and licking him down his stomach. Teasing, biting, tasting. Killian shudders. When the boy gets to the belt he drops to his knees in front of the bed and with knowing fingers he pulls it off.

Peter used to hate Killian’s belt. He never had the patient to take it off; instead he’d use his inhuman strength and just rip it away, usually ruining it in the process. He never cared of course. Caring wasn’t one of Peter’s many abilities. Not often, at least.

The boy pulls Killian jeans down while Killian is still lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He feels the boy’s lips covering his skin. He shudders and breathes heavily, tries to shut down all the memories that are still rushing into his head. Pictures of Peter sitting naked on the edge of his bead with his eyes shining in the dim candle light, Peter pressed against a tree, head lulled back and neck exposed, inviting Killian to press his tender lips against the skin the color of milk, Peter lying on his stomach, fingers digging into the bed sheets and curses spitting from his tongue like venom.

"You’re distant,” the boy mumbles, red lips millimeters away from Killian’s exposed member. The captain doesn’t answer, doesn’t get the change before he feels lips on the head. The sudden contact makes the captain hiss and the boy actually laughs when he takes him all in.

He starts moving in an almost perfect rhythm. It didn’t use to be like this, Peter wasn’t good at giving blowjobs – never was. He didn’t care enough to actually learn it. It was always on the edge with Peter, you never knew when he would suddenly drag his teeth over the fragile skin, causing Killian to scream out in unbearable pain. Peter enjoyed making Killian scream – and Killian is certain that the boy didn’t really care that much whether it was because in pain or pleasure. Peter wasn’t one for submitting, but he loved when other submitted to him. With Hook and Pan it’d always been a fight for dominance – a fight Killian always, without doubt, lost. But they played it, nevertheless and the boy enjoyed winning every time. Peter had the ability to be pressed up against a tree, naked, his back bleeding and rubbing the sore bark and still Killian never doubted that Pan was the one it control. He always was.

The boy moves, looks up at the captain with his green eyes shimmering. He smirks and drags himself up between Killian legs, crawls on top of him and over his stomach until he lingers just above him. He looks down at the captain and for a second Killian is capable of convincing himself that it’s okay, that they're back in his cabin on his ship in Neverland, that the lost boys never betrayed Pan to go with Emma and the Charmings, that Felix is still alive and well and waiting for his leader, that everything is the way it used to be. Back when doing this, lying on the bed, a naked Peter on top of him, didn’t mean anything – and yet everything. It was so easy and at the same time so very, very dangerous. And Killian loved the danger. Maybe it’s all too familiar for a second, maybe Killian does really forget that the boy above him is not the same boy who used to bite his lip instead of moaning because he wouldn’t submit to anyone, not even his own body. Maybe he really does forget, he certainly says his name:

"Peter!”

And as soon as the words have left his mouth he wants to take them back into his mouth, swallow them hard until they strangle him, until they burn him, until they make him bleed, and beg, and scream! But the boy doesn’t look the least bit concerned. He finally pulls Killian’s jacket off and then his shirt while moving his hips in a slow but still deep rhythm.

"Don’t look so terrified” the boy hums. "You can call me whatever you like.”

Killian feels like his being strangled, so instead of answering he grabs the boy’s hips again and force him down so their members presses against each other. And the boy actually laughs a bit, leans down and kisses him. Killian thinks, that hookers weren’t supposed to kiss, but he doesn’t say.

When they are both stripped from their clothes entirely and their hips are moving, quickly fastening rhythm driving Killian insane, the boy leans back just slightly and looks at Killian. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at the captain. Killian wants to say something so badly, wants to explain to the boy who he is, what Neverland is, who Peter Pan is. He wants to tell him why he's ended up where he is, wants to explain to him everything that has being going on for the last several hundred years. And he can’t because he wasn’t there for half of it and he can’t because it wouldn’t matter. The boy forgot, the curse backfired, whatever the boy was he is no longer.

"How do you want me?” the boy asks and hearing those words slip from those lips seems unsacred. Peter Pan would never say that – never. Killian wants to scream but he can’t, so instead he leans up as well, grabs the boy’s face and pulls him down. Their lips connect and soon Killian can taste the boy’s tongue in his mouth. He forces him over so the boy is on his back and Killian is on top of him and the sudden move makes the boy laugh again.

"Just like this,” Killian says and looks down at the boy, so still, so fragile, so willingly giving himself up to Killian without protesting, so nothing like the boy Killian used to be (still is) addicted to. Never have Killian hated anything as much as he hates The Dark One in that moment, for turning Peter Pan into this.

Killian pushes two fingers in hard, fast and without warning because he knows that Peter liked the pain mixed with the pleasure to a point where it was hard to tell them apart. The boy makes a strangled noise like he’s suffocating or drowning and Killian looks at him, but the boy’s eyes are closed. He starts moving. Slowly, at first, and then faster and faster until the boy pushes back unto his fingers. Then he pushes in another and this time the boy doesn’t hiss or make a sound other than a loud moan so unlike the eternal boy the captain used to know. They don’t talk. They used to talk during sex all the time. Killian hated it, or so he thought. Now, when he’s just lying there, it seems way to quiet even with those unfamiliar moans filling the thick air. He would prefer if Peter would argue with him, would tell him why he’s a coward or tell him what he likes about him (like his survival skills or the fact that he gave Felix a scar that makes him look ten years older).

When Killian pulls out, the boy opens his eyes and looks at him for the first time in minutes. Killian stares back into those demonic green pupils, but only for half a second, then he has to look away. Instead he slowly, very slowly, pushes inside of the boy. The boy doesn’t say anything, just looks at the captain. And when he’s all in Killian takes a moment to still himself, stare at the boy beneath him, so fragile, so… lifeless. And then he moves. They rock together, the boy’s legs strapped around Killian’s waist, forcing him in deeper. They pant and moan like a twisting symphony, matching those from the rooms next to theirs.

Killian remembers that one time, when they were at the lagoon. The ice cold water covering their naked bodies. Peter had laughed when Killian slipped on the rocks. He’d talked about the lost boys – he’d even talked about Rumple. And Killian had talked as well. Their words had flown around in the lagoon like butterflies, but there was hardly anything beautiful about them. They were harsh and cold yet fiercely hot. They were all they had in the end.

Killian suddenly pulls out of the boy, grabs his arm and forces him up before he turns him around so his back is pressed against the wall beside the big bed. The boy looks a bit taken back for a second but then that devilish smirk spreads on his edgy, perfect features. And if it is all that Killian has left of the old Peter, then at least he still has that; the features, his smirks, his ash-blonde hair.

Killian grabs the boy’s by the waist and pushes inside of him, hard and without warning and the boy yelps but quickly bites his lips, and Killian wishes he didn’t. Everything about the eternal boy is already forgotten, shattered, broken. This is only his shell, someone who looks just like him, but is nothing like him at all. So he might as well do everything Peter would never do. Because this had nothing to do with Peter anymore but everything to do with addictions and craving for a darkness that’ll never leave, not this time.

The boy wraps his legs around Killian’s back again and holds onto his shoulder as they move faster and faster. There’s something desperate about their movement. As if someone could walk in any minute and force them apart. Killian can no longer tell if he wants that – wants someone to drag him away from what’s left of the demon of Neverland. Or if he just wants to stay right there, with the fragile, white body pressed against the yellow-ish wall that reeks of sex and cigarettes. Maybe both, maybe none.

When the boy comes he leans forward and rests his forehead against Hook and the movement is so innocent and oddly calming that Hook can’t help but come as well. And he fills the boy with despair and dreams and memories that’ll torment the captain forever.

Then they stand there, both panting and shivering slightly. Killian wouldn’t have moved if it wasn’t because the boy moved his forehead from Killian's and looked at the Killian with his big, green eyes and says:

"You know, for a moment I thought you were going to walk out on me,”

Killian snorts, "Like you said, I already paid for you, love”

And the boy laughs and the sound sends shivers down Killian’s spine. They finally let go and the boy sits back unto the bed, and Killian realizes that there are no clothes but his own in the room. The boy is glistering with sweat but the room isn’t particularly warm and he’ll soon be shivering with something else but sex – piercing, ruthless cold.

"Should… I get you something?” Killian asks uncertainly and even he can hear how ridicoules it sounds but the thought of just leaving the boy makes him physically sick. The boy looks up at him again, raises one eyebrow, rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Don’t bother,” he says, amused.

"But, the cold” Killian says, feeling more and more embarrassed with each heartbeat.

"Don’t worry,” the boy says as he stand up, naked, pale, covered in his own cum. He tilts his head slightly and looks at the captain with that damn smirk plastered on his face. "Someone else will come and warm me up in a second,”

Killian clenches his teeth and nods before he grabs his clothes and pulls it on in a rush. His bones are aching and his stomach is twisting. It’s stupid, he tells himself again. Because Killian wasn’t the only one back on Neverland who enjoyed Peter’s company, the boy told him countless of times. There was Felix and Rufio and Wendy and godknows who else. But this is different. And the boy standing behind him has no idea of what he used to do, of the people he used to touch and hold and drag his nail down their backs, while they screamed his name like a curse and prayer all at once.

Killian can’t stand looking at him anymore. Can’t stand being in the room, can’t stand thinking and remembering. He can’t stand the fact that the boy who _used_ to be Peter is right behind him, looking at the captain. So he just walks towards the door, opens it, and walks into the hallway.

"See you later, Killian” the boy says before the door slams shut between them.

And Killian doesn’t even feel guilty, because he knows the boy is right; he’ll see him again.

It isn’t until later that Killian realizes that he never told the boy his name…


End file.
